


experimenting

by buckgaybarnes



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Hermann Gottlieb, Established Relationship, Kaiju Dildos, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, because he deserves it, i really don't know how to interpret that being a suggested tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckgaybarnes/pseuds/buckgaybarnes
Summary: Newton’s left a dildo on the bedside table.





	experimenting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cajynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajynn/gifts).



> my very lovely friend and fellow newmann writer gaby(!) requested some smut of newt walking in on hermann using one of his Bad Kaiju (tm) dildos, so i tried to deliver as best as i could!
> 
> i've written a shocking number of masturbation fics at this point

Newton’s left a dildo on the bedside table.

It’s at least ten inches. Shimmery. A sort of deep, vibrant blue that reminds Hermann viscerally of their days back in the lab, of the blue that used to stain Newton’s workbench and gloves and apron (when he bothered wearing an apron). Thick and ridged and curving oddly, almost as if it's some facsimile of what extraterrestrial genitalia might look like. A very specific type of extraterrestrial genitalia.

It’s obviously meant to be a kaiju dildo.

Hermann has questions. No, not questions. Hermann has _concerns_.

Where did Newton purchase such an object? _Why_ did Newton purchase such an object? Surely he has no need for dildos, anymore, not when he and Hermann share a flat and a bed (and a last name) and Hermann is more than amenable to fuck him whenever he pleases. To say nothing of the worrying _shape._  Newton loved his field of study, misses it, of course, now that it's irrelevant, but to purchase a sex toy modeled after the very monsters they had a hand in defeating—well, it feels strangely gauche.

Why is it laying out on the bedside table?

Newton is aiding in hosting an event for the biology department at their university today. He left early this morning, before Hermann was even properly awake enough to kiss him farewell. He took a shower before he left—there’s a damp towel hanging off the hook on the bathroom door—and the coffee pot was half-full and still-hot when Hermann finally dragged himself from the bedcovers to start his day (at around noon—Sundays mean a lie-in, after all).

(He saw the dildo when he shuffled back into the bedroom, a crossword puzzle and a mug of coffee clutched tight in his free hand.)

Did Newton use it on himself after Hermann fell asleep last night, and somehow not wake Hermann? Hermann can’t imagine why Newton would’ve felt the urge to: the thorough fucking Hermann gave Newton was, he believes, more than satisfactory. Newton seemed to enjoy it, at any rate—he was quite vocal about it. Perhaps Newton used it on himself in the shower this morning? Even that Hermann finds difficult to believe; Newton has never had any qualms with waking Hermann up for lazy morning sex whenever he pleases, not even when he's running on a tight schedule.

Hermann is sitting on the edge of the bed, and he takes the dildo carefully in his hand. He likes the weight of it. He likes the thought of Newton using it on himself even more—stretching himself open so wide, taking it in so _deep_ , tossing and thrashing about and making those sweet little gasping sounds he always makes when he takes Hermann’s cock on bare-minimum preparation. (Heat pools low in Hermann’s stomach, stirs in his groin.) He runs his fingers down the side of the toy. Hermann would very much like to use this on Newton, if not to just watch those fascinating ridges push into Newton’s tight ass.

Actually—the thought strikes Hermann with a sharp, heady jolt of arousal, and his cock stiffens in his sleep pants—Hermann would like to use the toy on _himself._

 

He washes it first, of course. He’s not a _barbarian_.

 

Newton chooses to bottom more frequently than he chooses to top, but he’s always enthusiastic whenever Hermann requests they change it up. And Newton’s cock is lovely, truly—so wonderfully wide, curved, and so sensitive to even the lightest little touch—and Hermann’s never once complained about having that lovely cock in him. But this toy—well.

Hermann’s only human. Sometimes he wants nothing more than a vigorous fucking.

He lays on the bedcovers, legs spread as wide as he can manage comfortably without straining his hip, and stretches himself open slowly with the lube they keep in their bedside table. Newton will not be home for another hour. That gives Hermann plenty of time to satisfy his curiosity and have the odd dildo washed and back on the bedside table before Newton even has time to kick off his boots. Hermann works a second finger into himself, curling in the practiced way he loves—the way that Newton always does it to him, too. If only his fingers were as lovely and thick as Newton’s. He closes his eyes and pictures Newton above him nonetheless: hair damp with sweat, face flushed, groaning as he fucks Hermann furiously with those lovely sturdy fingers. (Hermann feels precome bead at the head of his cock.)

Newton always loves complimenting him when he takes control for the night, so Hermann indulges himself in a little fantasy of his husband. _Oh, honey_ , Newton'd whisper, _oh, baby, I’m gonna screw your brains out_ , or maybe something more like _be loud for me, baby, I love hearing you,_ or—if Hermann is being quite honest with himself, and he usually is, about Newton—Newton would simply shout nonsense out about how _sexy_ Hermann is and get increasingly shrill about it until he’s nearly inaudible. Hermann’s cock jerks, precome dripping onto his stomach, and he fucks himself open with his fingers a little faster. He loves when Newton gets loud. Sometimes Newton's louder when _he’s_ the one doing the fucking.

When he’s properly stretched for something as wide as the dildo is, Hermann wipes off his fingers on his chest and eyes the toy a little warily. What does Newton picture when he uses this on himself? Hopefully— _hopefully_ —not a kaiju. (He likely only bought this style for the novelty of it.) He certainly wouldn’t picture Hermann. Newton may exclaim about how _hung_ Hermann is, but he’s nowhere near the monstrous size of the toy. Maybe he pictures Hermann using it on him: Hermann forcing Newton’s legs apart and fucking him furiously with it.

Hermann settles his head back against the pillows and begins to ease the tip of the lubed toy into himself. What should _Hermann_ picture? He settles on Newton again, of course, Newton kissing him sweetly as he pushes the toy into Hermann. ( _It feels so good, Hermann,_ he’d coo, _you’re gonna love it so_ fucking _much_.) The thought is perhaps a bit too exciting, and Hermann’s cock jerks again and he unconsciously clenches his thighs; he slips his free hand around it and tugs himself a few times to force himself to relax. The first ridge is in. He pushes the second in without issue, either. The third is where Hermann reaches a problem, but _Newton_ can do it, so Hermann can as well. Newton would encourage Hermann so sweetly, too—Hermann fucks the dildo back and forth, strokes himself faster—say _good, Hermann, yes, honey, I want to see you take that cock_ (he wouldn’t really, though, Newton’s dirty talk consists mostly of telling Hermann how hot he is and how much he loves him, which Hermann is fine by).

He gets the third ridge in, works his way to the fourth, moaning softly all the while, and that, of course, is when the door swings open.

“I heard—oh,” Newton says.

Newt’s hand freezes on the doorknob. He and Hermann stare at each other for a long while. Neither speak.

“Hermann,” Newton squeaks, finally, “is that my dildo?”

A multitude of possible excuses flit through Hermann’s brain: he didn’t know it was Newt’s (bad, who else would keep a shimmery ten-inch kaiju dildo lying on _their_ bedside table?). He missed Newt (a whole eight hours apart!) and wanted to be reminded of him, and using Newt’s shimmery ten-inch kaiju dildo was the best course of action (better, if not exactly romantic). He was curious (the truth). None of those make their way out of Hermann’s mouth. What does make its way out is a long, filthy moan as Hermann pushes the dildo an inch deeper into himself, impossibly further aroused by his sudden audience.

Newt kicks his boots off, tosses his jacket to the carpet, and scrambles on his knees onto the edge of the mattress with a speed unmatched by anything Hermann’s seen before. Hermann watches his eyes linger over the stretch of Hermann’s rim around the thickest part of the dildo, drift down to the base, where Hermann’s fingers curl, and heat further coils pleasantly in Hermann’s stomach; it’s always nice, being reminded of Newton’s raw, earnest desire for him. “Holy shit,” Newton says, “that’s hot, dude. Holy _shit_.”

Hermann pushes the final inch of the dildo into himself, feeling the base brush his ass, and his eyes flutter shut. He hears Newton breath in sharply. The dildo is wide, wider than anything Hermann’s masturbated with before, wider than Newton’s cock, and it’s exciting. He pulls it out slowly, feeling each odd little ridge catch on his rim, and then pushes it back in hard.

It’s like electricity, fire coursing through Hermann’s veins, when the head of the strange toy presses against his prostate, and he has to drop his other hand from his cock to prevent himself from coming too soon. “ _Oh_!” Hermann gasps, and his fingers shake around the base. “Oh—” He pulls it out and pushes it back in again, harder, and then again and again, and he hears the wet sounds of lube and Newton, Newton whimpering, Newton’s eyes wide and his mouth hanging open above Hermann.

“Hermann,” Newton says, hand fluttering about the base as well, over the curve of Hermann’s ass, “Hermann, honey, can I do it, please, can I?”

Hermann nods shakily, and Newton pushes his hand aside and grasps the base himself, resumes the fucking. “Newton,” Hermann moans, and tugs on his cock once more, “oh, harder—” Newton makes an odd choking noise.

“This is so fucking hot, Hermann,” he whines, pounding Hermann with the toy, “holy shit, holy shit, does it feel good? Do you feel good?”

“ _Yes_ —!”

Newton slams the toy in with a ferocity that makes Hermann’s toes curl and stars spark in his vision, and Hermann squeezes his cock and comes over himself with a little wail. He slumps back against the bed, boneless, spent, and he scarcely registers Newton pulling the dildo out, the quiet sound of Newton’s jeans zipper and the pop of the lube cap, and then there’s Newton’s voice—low and hot—in his ear. “Can I fuck you?” Newton begs, and Hermann hears the slick little sounds of his hand on his cock (Newton touching himself), “Please let me fuck you, Hermann, baby, let me—”

“ _Yes_ , darling,” Hermann groans, and Newton falls on him, parts Hermann’s thighs wider, fucks into him with a sharp grunt. He’s _hard_ , achingly so, poor, dear, Newton, he must’ve been suffering in those tight jeans he insists on wearing. (And oh, Hermann does love being reminded of how riled up he gets Newton.)

“You’re so _loose_ ,” Newton moans, and he runs one of his hands down Hermann’s chest, catches on one of his nipples and pinches it, and Hermann nearly purrs in contentment, “holy shit, Hermann—” It’s too much, too good, too soon after being fucked so well, and Newton, his lovely, beautiful Newton is moving above him, glasses half-off his face, shirt not even fully untucked, and Hermann wraps his arms around Newton’s back and clings desperately to his shoulders. One of Newton’s thick fingers circles Hermann’s rim alongside his furiously moving cock, feeling himself fucking Hermann, and—Hermann truly _is_ loose—when Newton slips his index finger inside as well Hermann nearly shouts. Newton _does_ shout. “Oh, _Hermann_!”

Newton falls apart above him; Hermann whimpers feebly when he feels Newton come in him, and Newton slumps over, breathing hard, hips finally stilling. “Hermann,” Newton repeats over and over, mouthing at Hermann’s neck, “oh, _wow_ , Hermann.”

 

“So, my experiment was a success,” Newton says, later, once he’s properly undressed himself. He’s just in his boxers and holding Hermann in his arms, kissing his neck lazily. Newton’s lazy kisses are always lovely, too.

“Mm?” Hermann says, still feeling mildly boneless. “Experiment?”

Newton looks embarrassed. “Well,” he says. “See. I kind of—wanted to... _gauge_ a reaction from you. By leaving it out, you know, and seeing what you said when I got home, and if you liked it I was gonna ask you to fuck me with it—”

“Oh?”

“It just came in yesterday,” Newton continues.

“ _Oh_ ,” Hermann says, coloring deeply. “You mean you haven’t—”

“Nope,” Newton says, and his embarrassment is replaced with a wide grin, “you broke it in for me, you horny old man.”

“I’m not _old_ ,” Hermann says, feeling terribly flustered, but oddly pleased at _Newton_ being pleased with his reaction to the toy at the same time. (He would very much like to use that toy again on himself. On Newton as well. Perhaps they could share: Hermann fucking Newton with the toy until he’s brought to the edge, then Newton using the toy on Hermann until _Hermann_ is brought to the edge; perhaps they could order another and fuck themselves at the same time; perhaps next time, Newton will allow Hermann to put on an _entire_ show for him with it; perhaps Newton will put on a show for Hermann.)

“No,” Newton agrees, and steals a little kiss, “but you are horny.”


End file.
